A Matter of Place
by SunRae5
Summary: One-shot. One would think that finding a suitable grave wouldn't be so hard... apparently the Ministry thought differently.


_ A/N: The idea for this one-shot popped into my head a couple of days ago and just wouldn't leave me alone. I know that it may seem a bit out of character but I hope you enjoy it none the less._

_ Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Harry Potter, I merely enjoy playing around with them. ;)_

_ RxExR!_

* * *

_A Matter of Place_

It was a bloody pain, this was.

Harry found it quite stupid that the Ministry might possibly be having the biggest internal spat in centuries merely because they couldn't find an appropriate place.

Of course, said place was supposed to be the resting place of the greatest evil that had apparently ever walked the lands and of course no one was actually willing to take the body and lay it to rest in their graveyard.

It had been suggested by the more intelligent in the group (namely Hermione) that they should simply cremate him and scatter his ashes in the wind, but no, despite him being the most horrible thing to happen to the British Wizarding Community, nobody was willing to ignore the standard set of rules of said community which included burying his body a whole six feet under.

And apparently they wanted it to remain as a statement for all of those that came after them to remind them that nobody was truly invincible.

He just failed to see how a rotting body underneath a gravestone (and he would have one, the Ministry simply was like that) would contribute to reminding people that evil did exist and that it could potentially cause a humongous amount of damage.

Now, if things went his way, he wouldn't even be involved in this whole bloody mess, and neither would Ron or Hermione, but the Ministry had insisted that the saviours of the wizarding world contribute towards this absurd topic too.

And so he and the other Order members, as well as a couple of the D.A. members, sat here in this huge meeting room for the tenth day running, having to listen to the absurd suggestions of the Ministry officials as they debated on where to bury them.

He really should have left for that world trip with Ron as soon as the war had ended, damn his stupid hero-complexes, he knew they were going to be the ruin of him some day.

~.~.~.~.~

So it was really quite a surprise when two days later Kingsley Shacklebolt, the acting Minister of Magic until elections took place and all that jazz, came up to him to tell him that apparently a graveyard that nobody had heard of before had volunteered to take in the deceased Voldemort.

It was more shocking than anything else that someone had actually _volunteered_ to take him in.

And now Kingsley wanted him to go over and check whether the place was genuine or not, and he didn't want the other officials knowing yet as that would only cause more complications unless everything was certain.

And being the man that he was, he had, of course, agreed to undertake the task and go to the graveyard to check it out. He had also asked Hermione and Ron to join him but Hermione had surprisingly declined, stating that something far more important than finding a suitable grave for Voldemort was currently occupying her time and Ron had said that he would join him a day later because he first had to deal with the current situation of his mum being released from the hospital that day, which he understood.

Therefore he found himself quite alone as he stepped off of the train onto the platform of some small town in the middle of nowhere, wondering why again he was doing this. The man had made his life a misery for a long time and here he was, looking for a nice grave for him.

He should probably heed Hermione's advice and go and find himself a therapist. He really had some problems that needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.

As he walked through the town he found himself feeling surprised at the peace and quiet that flowed around the town and he found himself smiling at the muggles who walked past him, who returned his friendly gesture with one of their own.

It was a quaint little town, old, but not appearing ancient or run-down. It was really rather charming.

He eventually found the graveyard after asking a couple of people and getting lost a few times, the streets were more misleading than one might be led to believe.

He pushed open the gates and stepped onto a well-kept path that led to the various graves and to the small chapel and the graveyard buildings. He followed the path and felt wonder at how beautiful a place of sorrow and death could be. The few people that were present as they tended to the graves were smiling as they went about their business or as they talked to the ones that had passed on. For the first time ever since the war had ended, Harry felt calm and at peace again.

"Mr. Potter?" A voice asked behind him and he turned around to look into the eyes of an old man well past fifty as he hobbled towards him with his cane.

"That's me." Harry replied, somehow knowing that this man would be a wizard, no one else would actually be able to recognise him merely on sight otherwise.

"William Stone, I'm the one who's in charge of the graveyard here." He smiled at him and Harry felt a lump in his throat as he saw the old man's eyes twinkle in a way that reminded him so much of his deceased headmaster.

"So you volunteered a grave for Vol..." Harry began to say.

"Tom." William merely said.

"Pardon?" Harry looked at him in confusion.

"I knew the man as Tom Marvolo Riddle, not as Lord Voldemort or whatever he was called in later life." He merely explained.

"Oh okay." Harry really didn't know what to say otherwise.

"I guess you came here to see where I would have him buried and if it would be suitable or not?" The old man asked as he already began to lead the way.

"Yeah, the Ministry sent me." Harry replied, keeping his voice quiet in respect for the ones that had been laid down to his left and to his right.

"The Ministry are a bunch of fools." William said with a snort and Harry internally agreed. "They are merely looking for a place to put down a wanted man. For them it is only a matter of the place and whether it would be safe or not. You can check all of that nonsense later but I can assure you that nobody has managed to disturb these graves for as long as my family has been running this place." The no-nonsense air about the older man eased Harry's mind, it had been quite some time since he had dealt with someone so brutally honest.

"What those fools do not understand is that the final resting place is not just a place, it has to have some meaning for the one that left the world too, otherwise they will never find their peace and move on. And it really bothers me that nobody has read his will, he stated in there that he wished to be buried here."

"He had a will?" Harry felt surprise flow through him and William turned around to look at him.

"Of course he did. Any sane person has one made as soon as they can. People get offed very quickly these days." He stated and then halted in front of a grave. "He will be buried here. He told me so when he left this town twenty something years ago."

Harry saw nothing but a place already occupied by a grave, a double grave at that but froze when he read the inscription that was on the grave.

_Alexandra "Allie" Violetta Riddle née Demalle_

_Beloved wife and friend_

_You will be sorely missed by all around you_

_You were my light when everything else was black_

_May you rest in peace_

"What..." He felt lost for words as he stared at the beautiful grave where flowers bloomed and a rose gently made its way up along the side of the stone. The sun shone through the leaves and highlighted the beautiful golden inscription.

"It's a side of him that no one is willing to remember." William stated softly. "He and Allie, his wife, moved here after they had left school. She was a Gryffindor and he was a Slytherin. It would have been a union frowned upon by the rest of the community. And she had already had a spat or something with her family so they were estranged. They really only had one another." Harry turned around and observed the melancholy look in his eyes.

"They married two years after moving here, I was the one that oversaw their wedding." He smiled briefly as he looked down at the grave. "They were expecting their first child when she got murdered by a couple of muggles as she was walking across the street. They had only meant to rob her but when they were unable to take of her enchanted ring, the ring that the two of them had chosen together when they had gotten married, they stabbed her since by that time the police had already been alerted and she would have been able to recognise them.

She died within the day. They had nicked some important artery or the other, even the personel at St. Mungo's were unable to do anything for her. The loss of her devasted him. He went and sold the house and moved away although he constantly came over to visit the grave." He looked back at Harry who had the feeling that he was going into shock. This wasn't possible. It simply wasn't.

"I have something that I want to show you." William said and Harry nodded before following him back to the house beside the chapel. "You can sit there." Harry sat down on a chair at the table in the kitchen as William bustled off to get something.

Seeing such a humane side of the man that he had known as Lord Voldemort was hitting him hard. But things slowly began to click in his head. Small inconsistencies that hadn't really made any sense before.

"Here. That's him on his wedding day with Allie. They were close friends of mine in the decade or so that they lived here." He put a small picture on the table and Harry looked at it closely. There was a younger Tom Riddle standing in the picture, his arm around the waist of a beautiful woman as she was pulled up close to him. He was smiling into the camera with his wedding robes on while she laughed, her eyes dancing as her white dress flowed around her in the gentle breeze.

He looked down and she looked back up and the two of them kissed before turning to look back at the camera, both of their cheeks flushed as they literally glowed with happiness.

It was a picture that pulled at Harry's heartstrings. It was hard to imagine the glowing man in the picture as the hard-hearted killer that he had become towards the end of his life.

"And although I know he won't appreciate it, I want to show you the last time he visited, a month or so ago." Harry was pulled from his thoughts as he saw William put a pensieve in front of him and pulled a memory out of his head with his wand before feeding it into the small stone basin.

"I think that you, of all people, deserve to know of his background." William said. "Tom was one of my closest friends, but even I know that he strayed away towards the end. I just want to show you how much this place meant to him and whether you could find it in you to let him rest here." William looked at him with imploring eyes and Harry sighed before dipping his nose into the pensieve, diving head first into the memory.

_He found himself staring around the graveyard in the middle of the night. Somewhere an owl hooted lowly. He looked to his left and saw William sitting there calmly, smoking his pipe. The old man was looking somewhere else though, somewhere in front of him and Harry turned to see what he was meant to see in this memory._

_What he saw made the breath catch in his throat._

_It was his nemesis kneeling on the ground as he looked at the moon covered grave of his deceased wife._

_"I'm going to die soon Allie." Voldemort's voice broke as he confessed this to the unmoving stone. "Remember about the prophecy that I told you about? The one where a boy barely a fifth of our age would kill me? Well he's going to kill me soon. We're going to attack Hogwarts, just as that bastard made me plan and I'm going to let Potter kill me there." Voldemort was completely ignoring William, which Harry found strange considering what he knew of the man's character._

_But then again, Voldemort's voice sounded completely different right now, it almost sounded like a completely different person._

_"I'm tired of being possessed by my grandfather, I was barely able to make it and come see you this time around. He's getting stronger each day, I can feel it." Harry felt confused. What was he talking about?_

_"Believe me, there are only two things that I really regret in this life. The first being letting you out of my sights for long enough to let this happen to you. The second being that I allowed my grandfather's spirit possess me to help exact revenge on the muggles that killed you." He put his head in his hands as he shook._

_"I was so weak at the time. I was completely broken. You were everything that I had. And he tempted me when I went to Little Hangleton to get that ring so that I could see you again. He told me he knew of a way to get you back, a way where you weren't a ghost. I should have known that he was lying but I was so broken, I didn't know what to do without you." Even in the pale moonlight Harry was able to see that Voldemort's eyes weren't his customary coal black but a bright shining green._

_"I'm so sorry Allie but hopefully I'll be rid of this soon. Maybe I can see you again after I've paid for the mistakes in my life. I have to go now, I can feel him regaining control. Goodbye. I love you." His voice quivered towards the end and the tall figure got up off the ground and began to move away quickly from the grave._

_"I guess I won't see you again then Tom." William said softly and Voldemort turned around to face him._

_"No, I'm sorry Will. I've put you through a lot." Remorse was in those green eyes._

_"Not more than usual." William said as he waved his hand dismissively. "Take care."_

_"I always do." Was the reply before he apparated away with a 'pop'._

Harry came back out of the memory into an empty kitchen and he got up and began to walk towards the grave of Alexandra Riddle. So many things were beginning to make sense now. So many things that had him wondering whether he was going mad or not.

He stopped in front of the grave and sat down on the path that weaved in and out between the graves.

It now made sense why Voldemort hadn't deflected his own _Avada Kedavra_ after it had rebounded, Harry knew that he should have been able to do so. There had been almost a kind of acceptance in his eyes before that green light had hit him and Harry knew that the man's mouth had lifted at the corners to form a small smile.

And he also knew that should he look at the eyes of the corpse right now he would be met with green eyes, not with the black that he had thought his enemy possessed.

He didn't know how long he sat in front of that grave, thinking and then also talking to a deceased woman that he had never known but by the time that twilight hit the horizons he had gotten back up and begun to walk towards the gates of the graveyard.

William was tending to the flowers of another grave and Harry stopped briefly. "He'll be buried here." William didn't look up but a small smile was on his face as Harry turned away again. "And you were right. A grave shouldn't only be a matter of place, it's also a matter of the heart." And with that he apparated away, in a manner so similar to a man that he had killed shortly after that man had been to this very graveyard himself.

Needless to say, Harry made sure that the man he could no longer hate found his place beside the wife he had loved all of his life. He also attended to small funeral ceremony and was surprised to see others turn up as well.

The words engraved in his headstone were simple but encompassed it all. William had been the one to chose them.

_Tom Marvolo Riddle_

_Beloved husband and friend_

_Misguided and led astray_

_You never found your place but left behind your heart here_

_May you rest in peace_

People would later come and disagree but Harry decided that they didn't know half of it anyway. They could think whatever they wanted but for those that knew, their opinions wouldn't matter anyway.

And when Hermione told the world a month later at the trial of Draco Malfoy that she was his fiancée and that whatever punishment they wanted him to take, she would take as well, much to Draco's obvious horror, Harry knew what he had to do.

Ron spluttered and cursed, Harry understood because he was in love with her after all, Ginny and the Weasleys felt betrayed and the world did not understand but he knew what to do.

After all, it wouldn't do for history to repeat itself as this was another Gryffindor and Slytherin pairing. He didn't want to be making more trips to graveyards and putting up another two headstones. He already had several graveyards that he frequented anyway.

And so he stood up and testified for the Slytherin that he had once seen as an enemy, shocking the rest of the world along with his friends and the two that he was saving by doing so.

The place truly was a weird place, after all a Slytherin-Gryffindor union had worked once before so it was perfectly predictable that it would work again despite the opposition, and for once Harry was glad that his hero complex had kicked in when he had accepted Kingsley's offer to visit the graveyard that day. It had taught him more than he would have ever thought.

And he always remembered what William had told him, something that applied not only to graves but also to friends and the relationships around him. It truly wasn't a matter of the place or the time of when something happened, it was a matter of the heart and the emotions involved in the process.

And that, he reflected, as he watched Hermione walk down the aisle while Draco looked like the happiest bloke alive, reminding him of the picture of Tom and Allie, was what really mattered in life. Molly, Ginny and all the girls attending cried as William read out his passages and Hermione and Draco recited their vows. Ron smiled happily at one of his best friends as she got married with his arm slung around Pansy (an even more shocking development than that of Draco and Hermione in his opinion) while his own arm pulled a sobbing Ginny close.

A matter of the heart, maybe that was what he should call his autobiography, he thought with a smirk as he watched the sun stream in through the chapel windows.

Yes, he believed that that was what he would do. After all, there was nothing more truthful than that.


End file.
